


This is Not Our Swan Song

by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, M/M, Period Typical Dialogue, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes/pseuds/MusingsOnBuckyBarnes
Summary: How things could have unfolded if Steve was able to prevent Bucky from falling from the train.





	This is Not Our Swan Song

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains some period-typical dialogue and vocabulary; no offence is intended.

 

 

xXx

Steve tried to get closer, without falling off the train himself. He and Bucky kept trying to reach for each other’s outstretched hands.

The metal bar Bucky was dangling from was half off its moorings already. It wouldn’t hold.

In those crucial few seconds, Steve’s famed strategic ability, his thinking outside of the box, kicked in, like at Camp Lehigh with the flagpole.

He might not be able to reach Bucky’s hand, but there was something he _could_ reach.

“Keep holding the bar!” he yelled. And he made a grab for the top section. He seized it.

Then it broke away from the train.

A large jolt coursed along his arm. Bucky was still there, still holding the other end of the bar. Eyes as wide and blue as the sky.

Steve’s foot slipped. Despite that, he somehow managed to hold onto the metal rod with one hand and the train with the other.

The curves and brackets at each end of the bar helped both of them, stopping the metal from sliding from their grips.

But they were still hanging from the side of a fast-moving train over a mountain ravine.

_Where there’s life, there’s hope,_ Steve thought.

Then he used his new body, all that strength, and even more importantly his inner strength and stubbornness, to haul them back inside the train. It was a huge surge of adrenalin and desperation to save Bucky.

Stumbling, they made it into the relative safety of the carriage, and sat slumped together on the floor. Steve felt like he couldn’t move properly, and it looked like Bucky had the same problem. They were shaking and sweating and trying to get their breath back. Trying to reassure themselves and each other that they were all right.

The metal bar was digging into Steve’s rear from where it had clanged to the floor. He was tempted to take it home and frame it or mount it on the wall like a pair of big game antlers. The gamble had paid off, but he or Bucky could still so easily have lost their grip.

Bucky said, “Thank you,” and his teeth were chattering.

The mission was not over. They pulled themselves together as best they could. Steve retrieved his shield, and they both collected guns and spare ammunition from the dead HYDRA soldiers. Then they pressed on ahead, doing their best not to think about just how close of a call that had been.

Steve’s muscles, left arm and shoulder ached. He didn’t want to let Bucky out of his sight. They didn’t speak, and Steve was glad for that. They were too full of the near-miss and the mission to complete.

They reached the front of the train without further incident, to find that Gabe had got there first and had captured Zola. The train was theirs. A key HYDRA scientist was in their custody.

xXx

Thankfully, they were soon able to hand Zola over – Bucky didn’t like being near him, and Steve couldn’t blame him. He felt the same.

Steve and Bucky stayed very close where they could, brushing sides, hand on a shoulder for a few seconds. But they hardly said anything to each other, apart from what was necessary to complete the job.

They, the rest of the Howlies, and Zola were quickly whisked over the Channel, out of Schmidt’s reach (hopefully).

Phillips told Steve to pass on his congratulations to the Howling Commandos. He then said to Steve, “I understand that you and Sergeant Barnes nearly fell off the train. Your men are on leave while we interrogate Zola. Same for you, after you attend a meeting with one of Howard’s lackeys in a few hours about publicity and modifications to the Captain America suit. Agent Carter has the details. She’ll go with you. You and your men are not to go too far or get drunk – while you’ve earned it, we might need to move quickly, depending what we get out of that little weasel. So, keep HQ informed as to where to contact you.”

“Understood, sir.”

xXx

It felt like a form of shock. Steve kept wanting to check that Bucky was there. To touch him. It was similar to the aftermath of Azzano, yet magnified.

And he finally knew what it meant. It was crystal clear, at last. _Took me long enough._

When he told Bucky and the other Howlies about the conditional leave, they immediately wanted to head to their usual pub anyway. Fair enough. Steve knew they wouldn’t overdo the alcohol. Not this close to hopefully shutting down Schmidt and HYDRA for good.

“I’ve got a meeting I can’t get out of, then I’ll join you.”

Gabe said, “I’ve just heard that the Whip and Fiddle was bombed while we were away. Fortunately, it was closed at the time, and the publican and tenants upstairs had all got to the air raid shelter, but there’s no way it can keep running for now.”

“That means we need a new pub…” Dum Dum mused. He turned to Falsworth. “You’re a local boy. Any suggestions as to the second-best pub nearby?”

Another establishment was quickly nominated, and armed with its name and address, Steve promised to join the others there as soon as he could.

Peggy and Steve then headed off to their meeting in a car, with her driving. They sat silently in the car for what seemed like an age, but was really only a minute.

She seemed to sense his distraction and ascribe it to the just-completed operation, or his own usual awkwardness. Peggy had already congratulated him on the successful mission, and now instead told him things about the London sights they were passing that she thought might be of interest to him, which he appreciated.

Steve was tempted to talk to Peggy about his revelation. He was desperate to talk to someone about this. About what had happened on the train, and what it had made him realize. To ask for advice on what to do. He respected her opinion on things – on everything.

But what he felt for Bucky was just as illegal here as it was in the States. How _could_ he say anything? Especially to Peggy, who he greatly admired and could so easily have come to love, and who also possibly had feelings for him.

Though he didn’t know for sure if Peggy felt that way about him (it could be wishful thinking or reading too much into things, or being brainwashed by teasing from the Howlies).

Peggy’s gaze did not move from looking ahead at the traffic, but when she said, “You need to talk to Barnes,” it still seemed like she was looking straight through him.

“What? Why, what’s he done?” Steve blurted out and winced. _Smooth._

They inched slowly through the traffic. Peggy spared him a glance and said in a patient schoolmarm voice, “You’ve had an epiphany about him. One that you need to discuss with him.”

Steve opened his mouth to deny, or to spin the ‘revelation’ into something safer, that their near-death experiences had really shaken him up and that was all, but he realized it would be an insult to her intelligence and their friendship if he did. She deserved the truth. She was not laying a trap to blue-card him or Bucky. And, fortunately, she didn’t seem to be disgusted or angry.

He still advanced carefully though. “Just to make sure that we’re on the same page here, _what_ do you think I need to tell him?”

“That you’ve realized your feelings for him are more than platonic.” She said it calmly, as an established fact. A truth. “It’s all right. I’m not going to tell anyone about it. I promise.”

_Oh, thank God._ Steve sighed, in both relief and frustration. “I need to talk to him. But I don’t know what to say. Or even if … it’s something he agrees with,” he finished carefully.

“I know Barnes agrees with it.”

“He’s told you?”

“He didn’t have to. And neither did you. I can see a church by daylight. I eventually realized that it was me that he was jealous of in the pub. The way you two look at each other – no one else could compete with that. And I saw the way you looked at him when you came back from Azzano and from the train, when you thought no one, including him, noticed.”

“I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t realize.”

“Now you do. And we well know that there may not be a tomorrow. So, you know your next step. To talk to him in private.”

“But how…? Where…?”

“I can recommend a hotel. The Two Swans.” Peggy told him the address. It wasn’t far from the new pub. “It’s a discrete place. One that turns a blind eye to both an unmarried couple and a same-sex couple, as long as the pairs are clearly not underage or under duress. It will be a good place for you to talk. And also more than that, if things go well. Or just get some much-needed peace.”

“Thanks… Ah, so it’s obvious to everyone how we feel about each other?”

“In a way, you’re both hiding in plain sight, because people know that you’re best friends and have known each other since you were children.”

“So, you, um, you don’t think that two men together are…?”

“With what’s going on in the world, two men in love with each other is not an issue for me. I was surprised at first, though. Now that I know you both more, I think it’s sweet.”

“What if he doesn’t…?”

Her gaze went steely. “If he hurts you, he has to answer to me.”

Their meeting with Howard’s assistant did not end up taking place, as the man had been delayed and couldn’t get there in time. He passed on a message about rescheduling for later in the week. At Peggy’s suggestion, she and Steve headed off for some food instead. On the way, they passed a shop that had suffered from recent bomb damage. Its front window was gone, but makeshift tables contained merchandise, and a sign declared: MORE OPEN THAN USUAL

The Brits certainly did have a ‘we can take it’ attitude, which Steve admired.

He remembered being in the vicinity of the Regent Palace Hotel at noon one day, when a V-1 rocket-bomb hit its staff annex, also claiming victims in the street. Steve hadn’t been hurt, and on the orders of an off-duty nurse, he’d raced into the hotel’s foyer for discarded newspapers, as rolled-up ones were used in emergencies for patients when no splints were available.

While he had continued to help the nurse, he also noticed that a nearby pub’s windows had blown out, yet its bar’s drinking glasses and bottles were undamaged. Thinking back to that image now, Steve realized he had felt like that at times himself, both changed and unchanged, like when the formula had worked, and now when he knew he loved Bucky.

Peggy took him to a café in Covent Garden market and asked for tea and biscuits. She was also able to procure for them one of the more secluded tables, in case they wanted to continue The Barnes Conversation, (and they had agreed that if so, they would refer to Bucky as “B” and as “she/her”, so people would assume it was a girlfriend named Bea).

While they waited for their food, Peggy told Steve, “At one place that shall remain nameless, I ordered the ‘Chef’s Surprise’, and received a puff pastry case full of turnip. But this far into the war, nothing much surprises me food-wise, and that is a very mild example. A lot of chefs put a French name on something to make it sound fancy. There are cooks who manage to be ingenious, but others rather abuse the situation.”

Steve nodded. “And some have hardly anything to work with. Last time I was in France, we were given some chicken, which would have been great, except it was stewed in diesel oil.”

Tea and egg-and-bacon sandwiches arrived. But he had distinctly heard Peggy order ‘biscuits’… At his confusion, she gave him a wry look and he realized what was going on. It had not been an error but code, and he spent a few amused seconds wondering what the press would think of Captain America eating black-market food. Which turned out to be very good.

In a way, Steve felt much lighter. He had shared this huge thing, this dangerous thing, with someone who had not judged, who he admired and was willing to help. Someone whom he cared deeply for.

He smiled and resumed eating. Seeing his mood change, Peggy also smiled. In between mouthfuls, they had a great, lively conversation, the intelligence between them crackling, with Steve feeling more at ease than he had for months. Their joint course veered away from that of romance and headed steadily into that of a wonderfully strong friendship instead.

“I look forward to seeing America one day,” Peggy said, and Steve told her a bit about his own small corner of it, as well as answering her questions. They were interrupted once for an autograph but fortunately that was all.

After the meal, Peggy looked at her watch. “I’ll get back to the office now. See you later. Good luck. If Phillips wants you, I’ll come and get you.”

“Thank you so much.”

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “If I could, I’d be your bridesmaid. And we can still go dancing. You need to learn.”

“Deal.” The look of admiration he gave her as she left could easily be mistaken by others as that of a very smitten man.

xXx

Steve joined Bucky and the others at the pub, his heart giving a jolt when his eyes met Bucky’s again. The right partner.

The men were mourning the loss of the Whip and Fiddle, but they seemed well on their way to getting used to this new one. At least it did seem to be nice and lively. Eat, drink and be merry…

Dernier said in French, “We’ve already eaten, Captain. You want to get something?”

“No need – I’ve eaten too,” Steve replied, also in French. The group had picked it up from Dernier over time.

It was good to relax with the men and listen to their excited chatter. But Steve didn’t want to stay there long, and Bucky seemed restless. They hadn’t had any time alone. Steve was craving it.

When Steve went to the bar and was waiting to get another round, Morita joined him.

“Everything all right, Cap?”

“Yeah, just been a long few days… Look, I think Bucky and I will bail out after this round and rest up while we can. He needs some sleep.”

Jim nodded. “Only one who can get his stubborn ass to rest is someone just as stubborn.” ~~~~

“We’ll head to the Two Swans. It’s not far.” Steve hoped that the Howlies wouldn’t have to go there to fetch them, but he had to risk it, since they would have to be able to find him if needed. And he knew where the Howlies would be if he was the one needing to do the fetching.

They toasted Gabe for his success with Zola, and drank up, before Steve said goodnight and took Bucky away.

“Come on, Buck.”

“Duty calls?”

“No, sleep does.”

Bucky couldn’t deny that.

Steve didn’t dare look back at the Howlies. He wasn’t sure if they had worked out what Steve’s feelings were towards Bucky. And if they did, would they accept it or not? He told himself to calm down; he hadn’t even talked to Bucky about it yet.

They stepped out of the pub into the night, and Bucky got out his flashlight, or ‘torch’ as they said over there. It had the regulation two layers of tissue paper over the glass to obey the blackout laws.

At Piccadilly Circus, the statue of Eros was not on top of his fountain – he had been removed for safekeeping, and the fountain itself had been boxed up and sandbagged, forming an odd lumpy pyramid. There were a number of women waiting there to offer a different kind of love than the eternal romantic devotion of Eros: theirs was transactional, quick and completely physical. The prostitutes were the Piccadilly Commandos.

They advertised their wares by running the beams of their small flashlights along their legs, displaying their open overcoats, incredibly short skirts, stockings and high heels.

“Owbout it, love? Around the corner for a pound?”

One man made his choice, then the pair headed to the nearest newspaper vendor’s for condoms, then most likely on to the nearby Regent Palace for a bed.

As Bucky and Steve passed by the Piccadilly Commandos, the girls enthusiastically made their pitch to them both. Bucky replied, “Sorry, ladies. Broke GIs.”

This led to a flirtatious retort from one woman that his assertion was a lie, as GIs were well known to be, “Oversexed, overpaid, and over here!”

Fortunately, none of them realized they were propositioning Captain America and his second-in-command.

Then Bucky returned his attention back to Steve. “Where are we going?”

_To our future,_ he wanted to say. What if Bucky hit him?

“Not far. A comfortable hotel.”

When they entered the building, Steve did feel a bit on edge, but that quickly faded at the greeting from the man and woman behind the front desk. He could see why Peggy had sent them here. These people had a reassuring warmth about them. Retired theatre actors, they had framed photos on a wall from their lengthy careers. He could imagine them lovingly re-straightening the photos after each time the building shook from close-call bombing.

At the reception desk, there was a framed quote: _Seize the day._

In their designated room, Steve locked the door behind them, looked to make sure that the blackout curtains were closed, then turned his attention to Bucky, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room under his gaze, facing him.

Steve covered the distance in a few strides and wrapped his arms around him at last.

Bucky didn’t return the hug. He stood there, awkward. “Steve… what are you doing?”

“Reassuring myself that you’re really still here. God, Buck… Do… do you want me to stop?”

There was a pause, then Bucky’s arms moved and latched around him. “We’ve had close calls before,” Bucky said over his shoulder.

“Not quite like that. It – it really got me thinking.”

Bucky froze. “You shouldn’t do that. You should _stop_ thinking. Or start thinking properly. I don’t know!” He sounded somewhat desperate.

Despite Bucky’s words, they kept hugging. Bucky even eventually rested his head on Steve’s shoulder.

After a while, Bucky said, “So, you brought me here to have a hug in private and to make sure I sleep? Hope that’s worth the expense.”

They moved back a little, enough to stare at each other. Bucky gently bit down on his own lip without realizing, and lust zinged through Steve. What would it feel like for Bucky to do that to him? Or to other parts of his anatomy… Steve shifted a bit, conscious of his body’s reactions. Which was not his brightest idea.

Bucky was looking a bit dazed, but not disgusted. He wasn’t moving away. In fact, he seemed in a similar condition to Steve…

Time to make the big leap.

“If I kissed you right now,” Steve croaked out, “what would you do? How would you react?”

There was a pause before Bucky said, “That depends – are you thinking or not thinking at the moment?”

“Both.”

“What about Peggy?”

If it was meant to be a splash of ice water to the face, it didn’t work.

“I realized I don’t think about her in that way. She’s great, but she’s not you.”

“Are you sure you want this? Us? She’s a hell of a woman to just walk away from.”

“She knows how I feel about you.”

_“What?”_

“She’s fine about it! She won’t tell. Heck, she said she’d even be our bridesmaid, if it was possible.”

“Oh,” Bucky remarked faintly.

Steve took a deep breath. It felt like he hadn’t breathed properly for hours. “Dangling from a train really clarified my priorities. But are they yours too?”

“I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t lead you up this path.”

“It’s the same path. No leading. We’re on it together.”

There was a pause. Bucky stared at him, then closed his eyes and leaned forward. Steve leaned forward too, and they kissed.

How had they never done this before? Well, he knew why, but kissing Bucky was wonderful and something to now be done as often as possible. Their enthusiasm soon broke through their initial hesitation.

Steve felt relief, along with his dazed delight. Even though Peggy had assured him that Bucky felt the same way for him, it was something best clarified by Bucky. And now it had been.

More staring at each other, then more kissing, while still hugging.

Steve wasn’t sure how long that continued. But as lovely as it was, they couldn’t stand there clutching each other all night.

When they paused for breath, he said, “Look, Buck. We don’t have to rush into anything. We can lie down and get some sleep. Together, if that’s all right. If we don’t do anything tonight, I don’t mind. At least we know how we feel. It would be great to be able to hold you in bed.”

“Romantic. You always have such lofty goals. Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. Sleep would be good.”

They stepped back a little from each other. Now that Steve had time to take in his surroundings more closely, he did so. Peggy had chosen wisely. Even in the middle of a war (or hopefully near to its end), the room was clean and comfortable-looking despite being spartan. There were two single beds. There was a dual swan motif going on to match the hotel’s name, a pair swimming together in repeat on the wallpaper and in a carving on the head of the dressing table.

And Steve realized they had been given a room situated where it would probably be hard for them to be overheard, even if they did get vocal.

Quietly, they pushed the two beds together into the middle of the room.

They undressed and neatly folded their clothes over chairs, just leaving their underwear on. Then they put the lights out and piled into bed.

It was wonderful just to be able to hold hands – the hand that he hadn’t been able to reach. And having their bare chests pressed together was great.

Bucky laced their fingers together and said sleepily, “There had better _not_ be an air raid, tonight of all nights…”

With their exhaustion, it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.

xXx

They slept for a few hours before waking and agreeing quietly that it was the best sleep they’d had for a very long time. Steve didn’t need as much sleep these days, and neither did Bucky, it seemed.

They lay there, taking turns spooning each other, or lying face-to-face.

“You’re right. This is great,” Bucky said.

They whispered to each other for a while, as well. Things they hadn’t dared tell each other before, and had held in for a long time.

Thanks to the serum, Steve could see reasonably well in the dark now, so lights out wasn’t a problem for him.

“I can see your smile. I wish you could see mine.”

Bucky said quietly, “I can. I can see better in the dark, since whatever Zola did to me…” His heart was now racing.

Steve’s heart reacted too, with anger at Zola. “We’ll deal with it. It’s okay, Buck. You’re still you. Just like I’m still me.” They had both been changed mentally and physically during this war. “If you want to talk about it -”

“Not now. Not tonight. Later.”

Steve held him, running a hand up and down Bucky’s back and touching his face. He slowly felt Bucky’s heart settle.

After a while, both their heart rates picked up when they began kissing again. Bucky initiated it, whispering, “Seize the day.” They did, as well as other things.

They could see well enough, but there was still some fumbling due to nerves and lack of experience. They explored and couldn’t stop kissing each other, whether it was each other’s mouth or other parts.

Bucky said in his ear, “Around the corner for a pound, love? Owbout it?”

Steve did his best not to burst out laughing. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I have a few ideas.”

Underwear was discarded. They were alive and together. Very much alive.

It was glorious, now that Steve could kiss and stroke and move against Bucky. It was just them and their feelings and sensations. No war, no laws. Time kindly stretched out – or perhaps it seemed so because they didn’t need as much sleep.

They fooled around, teasing each other in the best way, climaxed, then held, and eventually slept again. And repeated it all. Fortunately, the beds withstood it.

This was what it was like to be happy.

Steve tried to push aside thoughts of Zola and anger about what he’d done – soon they would take down Red Skull, and Steve would be there for Bucky, like Bucky was for him.

He reveled in Bucky’s laugh, even though it was muffled due to the late hour – how long since he’d heard Bucky really laugh?

If he had thought that the kissing was wonderful, what they were doing now was amazing. Even with their knees and elbows bumping. Bucky’s tongue did things, which Steve eagerly reciprocated. They tried to outdo each other, and both were winners. Then it was time for a quick wash then back to bed.

_This time is ours._

Steve wasn’t sure if it was their youth or the experiments that gave them such endurance.

Whatever the reasons, they packed so much into that night, trying to catch up on lost time. What if he’d lost Bucky? What if he still did? At least they’d had this. And one day they could share a bed without having to try to keep so damn quiet.

There was a quote Steve had read somewhere; he couldn’t remember who’d said it: _All the great pleasures of life are silent._

_Nice quote, buddy, but you’ve obviously never had the impossible task of trying to keep quiet while Bucky Barnes does amazing things to your aoidjoidjfaiehfudhioasfhiod;ajfdohyuigu!!!_

xXx

Eventually, dawn caught up with them, and they lay there, gazing at the wallpaper.

“Swans bond for life,” Bucky commented.

“And we did a long time ago, without realizing.”

Steve thought of the Ugly Duckling fable, but Bucky would give him a sharp elbow if he compared his pre-serum self to being ‘ugly’.

“I think that every time I see a swan from now on, I’m going to think of this night,” Steve said. After a few minutes of snug silence, with Bucky being spooned, Steve said, “When this is over, we could go and live in France. It’s not illegal there.”

Bucky turned over and stared at him. “I think there’d still be discrimination…”

“I know we can’t get married, and it wouldn’t be easy, but at least it wouldn’t be against the law. We might be able to ask Dernier about it, if he seems like he won’t punch or report us.”

“Do you really want to live in France? And become ‘Captain France’?”

“I don’t want loving each other to be a crime. And we have money now. We can still help people. Rebuild here. Travel.”

“The US government might strongly encourage us to go away, far away, if they find out that we’re a couple.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.”

xXx

In a new century, they married, and their wedding rings were signet rings with a pair of swans engraved on them. “Cygnets on a signet,” Bucky joked. Steve had sketched a pair of swans swimming face to face like mirror images, with their beaks together and their necks forming a heart shape. But they decided to go for the image of two swans swimming side by side instead, like on that long-ago wallpaper. And Steve did manage to dance very well at the reception, after a lot of practice.

Peggy wasn’t their bridesmaid. She was their maid of honor. And her smile at their wedding was the same bright and delighted one as when she’d seen them in the morning after their night at The Two Swans.

xXx

The End.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: I’ve left it deliberately vague as to whether Steve and Bucky both went down with the Valkyrie and woke up in 2012, or whether they moved to France and lived through the rest of the 20th century. The reader can choose which scenario they like the best. Either way, Steve and Bucky are together.
> 
> Thanks very much to Nurse Darry, beta reader extraordinaire! (And for the GI phrase.)
> 
> The WW II London details mostly come from the book The West End Front: The Wartime Secrets of London’s Grand Hotels by Matthew Sweet, apart from the ‘More open than usual’, which I’m pretty sure was in The Blitz: The British Under Attack by Juliet Gardiner (I read it a few years ago), and the diesel oil as cooking oil was from the biography Nancy Wake: SOE’s Greatest Heroine by Russell Braddon (and one day I will finish my unpublished WIP where Nancy is friends with Steve and Bucky).
> 
> All the great pleasures of life are silent.   
> \- was said by Georges Clemenceau.
> 
> Back in 2015 or 2016, I enjoyed reading a fic where Steve rescued Bucky by grabbing hold of the bar instead of his hand. That idea inspired me for this fic. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the title or the author – if the author leaves a comment or if I eventually do find it again, I’ll add the fic’s details in here.


End file.
